


On a ladder from there to here, I climb

by jammiedaleks



Series: when tomorrow changes into history [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jammiedaleks/pseuds/jammiedaleks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[If you get notifications about this work being updated, apologies: it's not new material. It's me editing because I've finally realised that some of this stuff is atrociously written. Again, sorry for bothering you!]</p>
<p>The guard nervously ignored her as he unlocked her cell. She stepped in, and after the door was closed she held out her cuffed wrists through a gap in the bars. His hands trembled slightly as he removed the handcuffs, and River’s eyes narrowed mischievously.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come in for a coffee?” she purred.</p>
<p>Panicked, the guard nearly tripped over his feet in his haste to get out of combat distance, her laughter following him down the corridor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

With a flash of electricity and smoke, River materialized into the TARDIS. A warm thrum greeted her arrival, and she smiled fondly. 

"It's good to see you too, dear. Anyone else at home?" A dimming of the console room lights and a tranquil silence indicated otherwise. Descending below the console, she opened a chest to pull a large toolbox out from under a heap of unfolded clothes.

“Right then, arts and crafts time I think, old girl.”

The TARDIS took her to the room she was looking for, a spacious, rustic kitchen with a window overlooking the tea garden. Setting the toolbox down on a chair, River spent a few minutes rummaging through the cupboards below the counter, ferrying her chosen items to the large oak table that dominated the room. Glass tinkled on glass as she gently extracted the cleanest wine glass from a shelf. Locating a bottle of her favourite white wine on the neglected looking wine rack gathering dust in the corner, she turned to settle at the table. Hands full, she nudged out with her foot a chair tucked into the table. As she eased herself in, a small metallic sphere whizzed into the room. Hovering in mid-air above the table, it emitted a few whirring sounds which faded into soft strains of music. River smiled at the old girl’s thoughtful choice of genre.

Minutes bled seamlessly into hours as she worked. Life rarely granted River the opportunity to relax enough to meditate. Granted, it was that way by choice; the nickname 'cosmic Indy' was one she maintained with pride. But she did so enjoy the occasional lazy Sunday afternoon alone with the TARDIS. Lost in her own thoughts and so engrossed in her work, she didn’t notice that she was being watched.

“Hi honey, I’m home.”

River looked up to see the Doctor leaning against the doorframe, watching her fondly.

“Hello sweetie. Good day at the office?”

“Oh, you know, did some paperwork, critiqued a new museum, saved Phobos from some rampant bartender androids. The usual.” He looked around the room. “Are we in a kitchen? River Song, one of the most notorious criminals in 63 galaxies, is cleaning my kitchen?”

“67, and no, I’m not cleaning. I’m upgrading these appliances so that cooking becomes more efficient. Leaves more time for much more…entertaining activities.” She raised an eyebrow alluringly, and he fixed his bowtie in response.

“I look forward to a demonstration, Doctor Song,” he all but growled, and he strode over to her to greet her properly. River loved watching younger versions of him splutter and panic at her flirtations, but encounters with a Doctor who revelled in giving back as good as he got was just as thrilling. Maybe even more so.

Straightening up, the Doctor glanced at the floating speaker. “Didn’t have you pegged as a reggae girl. Stevie Wonder, really?”

River looked up indignantly. “Nothing wrong with a bit of the Wonder man!” The music grew louder in volume, as if the TARDIS was voicing her agreement.

“Besides,” she added, “I let you play your music all the time. And there is such a thing as too much Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.”

The Doctor grinned at her, unrepentant. “Studies show that listening to music by the Sherman brothers lowers your blood pressure. And makes you more irresistible to your romantic prospects.”

River laughed as he danced around the kitchen, humming the tune of Truly Scrumptious. Reaching the cupboards, he opened one and began to rummage through its contents. River wondered how many items were in there that he hadn’t licked, or attempted to inhale with that ridiculous habit of his to sniff everything. “What are you doing?”

“Making a snack for the missus. Are you done with the toaster?”

“Haven’t started on it yet, so go ahead.” He sliced two brioches in half and dropped them into the toaster. He turned around to face her with a grin, purple coat swirling around him. Trust him to make warming up bread theatrical.

“Toasted brioche, with a dab of butter. Got introduced to it by a lovely 21st century girl. She had a head for science, that one did. Nice scarf too.” The Doctor plonked himself down in the chair next her, and picked up the hand blender. He reached into his jacket for his screwdriver, and gave it a quick scan.

“You’ve added a sonar element to the blades, that’ll speed up the mixing quite nicely I should think,” he said approvingly, inspecting the screwdriver. “But you’ve set the frequency far too high, it could stun a person at this lev-!” He stopped suddenly, and began scanning the rest of the appliances on the table. River could feel his suspicious gaze turn on her.

“River.”

“Hmm?” She pretended to be deeply engrossed in the kettle she was working on.

“River Song, I do believe you are turning my kitchen into a well camouflaged _armoury_.” She looked at him, a wicked smile on her lips and a playful glint in her eye.

“Just making the commute out of Stormcage a little more exciting,” she reasoned airily. “Writing out memos for the prison suggestion box was getting a little dull.” He stared mournfully at his updated blender.

“River, these are _my_ kitcheny things. Hand-picked and carefully researched, from an astounding range of eras and cultures, to suit my cooking style perfectly.”

She lifted an eyebrow challengingly. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Because I’ve gone through about 11 of these, and all of them are branded IKEA.”

“Yes, well, they were select IKEAs,” he huffed. “Only the finest stores. And besides, how are you going to get all of these into your cell? You wouldn’t be able to get past a guard with these, even if he were blind, and scanning you with a fridge magnet.” She smiled secretively.

“Oh, I have my ways,” River said, glancing down to retrieve a bag stored in her utility belt. She tossed it to the Doctor for a closer look. It was small and plain on the outside, but the Doctor’s eyes lit up when he looked inside.

“Oooh, bigger on the inside bag,” he said happily, passing it back to River. “You know, I’ve always had a hunch that J.K. Rowling got hold of one of these.”

“We should pay her a visit sometime then,” River said, packing her new weapons in the bag. He frowned. He was not, it seemed, as easily distracted from protesting her new toys as she’d hoped.

“Are you planning to strip my entire kitchen bare then?” he complained. “Even with my culinary prowess, there’s not much you can do when you’re only left with a can opener. You know, your younger self might not appreciate me serving her microwaved baked beans for dinner. Unless you’ve taken my microwave too, where is it?”

His eyes roamed around the kitchen until they landed on the toaster, which was now emitting smoke. “Rassilon's beard, the brioches!”

The Doctor leaped from his chair and scrabbled for the cancel button. River watched, highly amused as he extracted the charred remains of the brioches.

“Culinary prowess indeed,” she teased.

“This was your fault, distracting me with your utensils of death!” He pointed a blackened pastry at her accusingly before dropping it in the bin.

“Excuse me; I wasn’t the one who left the dial on too high!”

“Faults on both sides then,” he conceded. His face lit up, struck with an idea. “Fancy going somewhere for a proper brioche instead?”

“Mmm, sounds good. Pop the randomiser on, I’m feeling adventurous today.”

“I really need to get rid of that button. I swear, half of the times we end up in mortal peril are because you can’t resist using it to mess with me,” he grumbled as he headed to the door.

River grinned, and she called after him as he disappeared down the corridor. “You love it really. And need I remind you, you’re the one who put it there in the first place!”

Putting her bag back into the belt pouch, River got to her feet and hastily cleared up the table. Walking along the corridor back to the console, she trailed her fingers gently along the wall and whispered conspiratorially to the TARDIS.

“Pick a good one, will you? Pastries and peril should go quite nicely together, I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fic, and I hope you liked reading it as much as I did writing it.This ship is so very heartbreaking in the show, so as therapy I wrote more angst free minisode-esque stories for them. I have a few more adventures lined up for them, but as writing is not my forte it may be a long while before they're posted!
> 
> I snuck in a few references here and there, including ones to AGMGTW, TDOTD, the Eternity Clock and (I think) the 8th Doctor. So if reference hunting is a hobby of yours, go forth and enjoy!
> 
> Title taken from 'The Ladder' by Andrew Belle. It's a song that feels quite River/Doctor-y, so check it out if you have time.
> 
> (Also, the Doctor doesn't compare diaries before calling her his wife. I like to think that he knows she acquired a vortex manipulator in The Pandorica Opens, so when he sees it on her wrist he knows he doesn't have to check.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor accidentally drops in on a River still at university.

He hadn’t meant to land at Luna University. Perhaps the coordinates were off by a slice, or a wire too loose in the temporal sat nav, or the TARDIS was just feeling a bit bossy today. So instead of arriving in time to see the lunar volcanic eruptions, the Doctor opened the door to the rather more disappointing view of a horde of students hurrying through an immaculate courtyard. Off to their lunch break destinations, he supposed. Their boring, lava-less destinations.

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS onto the grass, which glowed red briefly under the soles of his shoes. Intrigued, he lifted one foot and brought it back down, and the red flared up again.

“Light up grass,” the Doctor grinned. “James Cameron made quite the lasting impression on you humans.”

“Doctor?”

He looked up to see River with an armful of books walking up a path towards him, the combination of sun and earthlight setting her curls ablaze like burnished gold.

“River!” he called out eagerly. “You never mentioned how cool your campus was, just look at this grass!” He did a little jig to demonstrate, in case she hadn’t seen the glowy grass yet.

Gravel crunched under her boots as she stopped across from him, a few feet away. “Yes it is. But they’re rather vigorous in enforcing their ‘no walking on the grass’ rule here, you know.”

“Piffle!” he said dismissively, walking towards her. “Over a thousand years of travelling, and I haven’t been brought down by a ‘keep off the grass’ sign yet. Can’t be done!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” River said, and looked past him pointedly. He turned to see two hulking security guards, who looked like they’d seen their share of brawls (and come out on top with ease), heading his way quite menacingly.

“Ah. On second thought…” The Doctor bounded forward to grab her hand, and pulled her with him in a hasty retreat to the TARDIS. Taken by surprise, she let go her books, which tumbled to the ground with reproachful thuds. He hustled her inside and slammed the door shut. River whirled to face him irately.

“Doctor, you made me drop my books!”

“You don’t need those gossip magazines anyway. Not good for the brain!” he said jauntily, racing up the stairs. She folded her arms, and followed him around the console. Both ignored the muffled shouts and pounding at the TARDIS door.

“They were archaeology textbooks.”

“Same thing.” He flicked a few of the switches for take-off and glanced over at River. He was startled to see her glowering at him fiercely. (Where was the fond exasperation, the smirks, the zingy comebacks?)

_Ah_ , he thought, momentarily desolate.

_First time for everything._

“Archaeology is an ancient and highly respected subject,” River snapped, typing forcefully on the keyboard and reversing a lever. The Doctor looked contrite. He opened his mouth to apologize just as River spoke again. “Which is more than can be said for _your_ doctorate, cheese master.”

The Doctor hid his delight at the retort by feigning offense. “Cheese making is a very important subject, thank you very much. Vital to the survival of early civilisation. The invention of cheese was even earlier than human recorded history, according to Wikipedia, but of course that isn’t much of an issue when you’re me. And what a belter of an origin story it is, it all started with a very patient goat and some -” The TARDIS jarred to an ungainly halt, sending an unprepared Doctor sprawling to the floor.

River smoothed a hand over the console in apology and, stepping daintily over the Doctor’s legs, headed for the door. He jumped up and hurriedly followed her outside.

“We’re still on the Moon,” the Doctor noted. Dismay on his face grew as he checked his watch. “Still in the same time period as well?”

“Same day. Not even been five minutes since we took off,” River said proudly.

“I could have taken you to a much cooler era of Moon life. Well, I say cooler, probably better described with the opposite. I was aiming for the Moon volcano eruptions, but somehow landed here instead. Sat nav on the blink again, no doubt. Lava with _Moon_ gravity, River, just imagine it!” The Doctor looked at her winningly, but she remained unmoved.

“My life, my rules. I’m not about to cancel my plans because you happened to drop by accidentally,” River said sharply. The Doctor frowned in confusion. He had a wealth of (rather fond) memories that indicated otherwise. Then again, this was a young River. Free will was paramount, brainwashing a thing of the not so distant past.

“For now,” he said knowingly. “But you, River Song, are the queen of rule breaking. Maybe even your own.”

River stared at him. He recognized that look. It was the one he’d given her all those years ago, when she was a complete stranger with, quite frankly, infuriating amounts of foreknowledge. A mixture of conflicted feelings swirled in her gaze; stubbornness and curiosity, apprehension and anticipation. Quite normal and to be expected really, the Doctor thought. He’d never handled meeting his future selves that well either.

The Doctor clapped his hands decisively to change the subject. “Right. The Moon, 5125. What are we off to see?”

She looked at him, surprised. “I thought you were heading off to see the volcanoes?”

He smiled at her affectionately. “Anything with you, River, is bound to be far more thrilling than a bunch of hot rocks.”

She preened a little at that.

“Such flattery, Doctor. Do you say that to all the girls you try to whisk away in your ship?” River teased, though her tone was considerably warmer.

“Usually they buy me dinner first.”

“Oh honey, I can do a lot better than dinner.” She pointed to a small crater in the ground a few steps away. “See that?”

“Mm, piddly little crater, that. Meteoroid must have been the size of a pea.”

“It’s a teleport. Right underneath our feet is the Moon’s largest and greatest fairground. It’s open every weekend, but the theme changes each season. Keeps the crowd coming back. Myself included.”

The Doctor bounced on his heels giddily. “Ooh, I like a good fairground! Happy music, whack a mole, cotton candy, that’s the stuff. And what’s the theme running now?”

They stepped on the teleport and were plunged into almost complete darkness, save for a few flickering lampposts.

River grinned wolfishly. “The ancient Earth myth, the zombie apocalypse.”

“Ah. So that’s a no on the happy music, I take it.”

River chatted animatedly as she paid for tickets. “I’ve been hearing quite the reviews for this zombie theme, non-stop hype for the past three months in fact. You know, it’s quite like how they held renaissance fairs back on 20th century Earth. Went to one of those once, school trip. The girls were sent to learn how to make soaps, and the boys to have a go at sword fighting. Naturally Amy and I weren’t having any of that rubbish. We snuck ourselves into the boys group, putting on helmets so we wouldn’t be caught. Rory was ever so cross. Still let us beat him in duels though.”

The Doctor stilled for a moment, his eyes pained, but he shook his head and quickly changed the subject. “You said they changed the theme every season. Tomorrow’s the official first day of summer. With all the good press, why didn’t you go sooner?”

“Oh, I only ever go to the last one in the run. That last chance to see vibe makes you appreciate it all the more, I think!” She spoke with a cheery tone, but a fleeting emotion on her face betrayed hidden motives behind the unusual choice.

The Doctor decided not to press the issue. Instead, he bopped her lightly on the nose. “That must be why you must like me so much, Miss Song. Last of the Time Lords and all that!”

River tilted her head and regarded him oddly. But before he could ask further she was pointing out a cotton candy stall and the Doctor forgot the whole thing entirely.

“Seems awfully quiet for a popular fairground,” he commented between mouthfuls of cotton candy. He peered into the gloomily lit surroundings. “Deserted, in fact.”

“Haven’t you heard?" the vendor asked, yellowed teeth bared in a vicious smile. "S’Pandemonium over at Zombie Run.”

River’s head snapped up in interest. “What’s happened?”

“I dunno all th’details. Summink about malfunctioning zombie robots. Police swarmin’ all over the Run.” He gestured in the direction of a broad square building. “Veritable stampede t’was to get to th’exit.”

The Doctor and River shared a look.

“Sounds dangerous,” said the Doctor, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, it does,” she replied, gaze unwavering.

“Stampeders have probably got the right idea, leaving here sharpish.”

“Yes, they do.”

“And we should probably follow their example.”

“Yes, we should.”

In perfect synchrony they turned from the vendor’s stall and headed straight for the Zombie Run building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> The temporal satnav, mentioned by the Tenth Doctor to be 'on the blink' in Dreamland.  
> The Doctor's refers to the gorgeous glowing plants in the James Cameron movie Avatar.  
> 'First time for everything', though the last time the Doctor said this in The Day of the Moon it was considerably less sad.  
> A doctorate in cheese making was mentioned as a possible candidate for what the Doctor is actually a doctor of in The God Complex. Most likely he's a doctor of quite a few other things too by now.  
> River is two years into her archaeology degree, as she applied in Let's Kill Hitler to the Luna University in the year 5123.


	3. Chapter 3

“This one?”

“No.”

“This one.”

“No.”

“This one, look, it's got sixteen varieties!”

River paused, assessing the stall. “Mm...no.”

The Doctor sighed, dodging yet another pushchair. “All the stalls are starting to look exactly the same.”

“I'll know the right one when I see it,” she called back as she weaved gracefully through the crowded marketplace.

“I still don't understand why we're doing this,” he grumbled, trying to keep pace. “It's not like they really care. They'll take anything they can get.”

“Just because they're not as fussy as you are doesn't mean they won't appreciate good quality! Whatever your life’s work is, do it well, don’t you think?”

“Martin Luther King. You're quoting Martin Luther King Jr. at me, about _feeding ducks_?” 

“There it is!” River’s arm shot out excitedly to pinpoint a stall, narrowly missing the head of a nearby tourist. He glared at her as he walked past, scales rippling irately. “I’m telling you, this man sells the best nuts you’ll ever taste.”

“Do I get to have some then?”

They jostled their way to the front of the stall, where a blend of dark nutty aromas greeted them. The large array of nuts, seeds and legumes would easily confuse the less plant-savvy of shoppers, but River seemed to know exactly what she was looking for.

“Yes,” she said absently, preoccupied with inspecting the hickory nuts. “If you buy your own.”

He adopted an air of mock outrage. “You’re not going to share with your own husband?”

River flashed a smile at the stall merchant and ordered, passing over a handful of coins. She then turned to face the Doctor. “I’m buying these for the ducks. Marital status has nothing to do with it.”

“If you want to impress a bunch of ducks so badly, you should have just bought them a pack of custard creams. You’d be pals for life.”

River shook her head, caught between amusement and despair.

“Don’t ever get a pet, Doctor.”

“If the TARDIS can have pets, why can’t I? Nearly had a horse once, you know.”

“And if you did, he’d be morbidly obese and diabetic by now. Custard creams, honestly.”

Glancing at the merchant, whose back was turned to them as he weighed out nuts, River sunk her hand into an open sack of lentils.

“ _River_ ,” the Doctor hissed. She grinned at him, that small, lopsided, naughty grin that he pretended not to like as much as he did.

“It looked fun in that French film you made me watch. Don’t tell me you weren’t curious.”

“There’s a difference between curiosity and nosiness, River, and the moral of ‘Amelie’ was to seize life’s opportunities, not ‘go get a lentil massage’!”

“But what if this was your last opportunity to try a lentil massage? These might be the last lentils you ever meet,” River said, adopting a sombre face to back her argument. She removed her hand from the lentils, regarding the Doctor with a raised eyebrow. “I know you want to. I can see your fingers twitching from here.”

Giving in, the Doctor dipped his hand in the lentils. Unfortunately, he timed it at the exact moment the merchant turned around.

“Oi!”

A few minutes later, River emerged from the marketplace happily admiring her nuts, trailed by the Doctor, who was now burdened with a rather sizeable sack of lentils.

“Looks like you’re all set on the legume front for a while,” she said playfully as she held the door open for him. A cold wind rushed at them with intent, and the Doctor hefted the sack a little higher up to shield himself.

“Oh no no no, this was your doing, so this is all going to be eaten by you,” he declared. “Lentils breakfast, lunch and dinner for you from now on!”

“I can’t possibly eat all that before it goes off,” she said, eyeing the sheer volume of lentils.

“That’s why freezers were invented,” he countered happily. “And don’t think you can just run off with younger, lentil-free versions of me. I’ll send lentil care packages in the mail if needs be.”

They hurried into the TARDIS, whose control room seemed to be even colder than outdoors. River looked around quizzically, her breaths visible in the air.

“Is the heating not on?”

“Should be thermostatically controlled, unless you’ve gone and messed with it.” The Doctor set down his legumes and bounded over to the console. He patted it sympathetically. “What’s the bad professor done to you, eh?”

“Me?! I’m not the one who spends countless hours connecting random wires together under the console for fun!”

“It may look random to you, but there’s a perfectly logical reason behind all the mechanical surgeries I undertake. I know what I’m doing under there.”

“Who’s the one with TARDIS knowledge imprinted in their brain, and who’s the one that keeps blocking up the air vents with TARDIS manuals?”

“Well, who’s the one with hundreds of years more driving experience?” He pressed a button with great confidence, and a deafening silence fell as the engine cut out completely. He threw his hands up in defeat.

River, supressing a smirk, poked her head out the door. “Maybe we should leave the old girl to do her own repairs. There’s a station just outside for a bus that’ll take us right to the wetlands park. Next one’s apparently coming in two minutes.”

“Two minutes out in the minus seven degree weather, two very _unnecessary_ minutes,” he groused, addressing the time rotor loudly. There was no response. He walked towards River. “Why did you even pick a winter visit to feed the ducks? Aren’t they all sunning themselves in the south by now?”

“Wood ducks aren't,” she replied around a mouthful of glove, as she attempted to put them on while still holding her parcel. “And besides, winter’s my favourite season. Can’t beat a good snowfall.”

“Right then, scenic route it is,” he said, picking up the lentil sack. River blinked, surprised.

“You’re not seriously bringing that with you?”

He shrugged. “It’s a good wind buffer.”

“You’re rubbish at making excuses. No, that’s not it,” River said slowly, eyes narrowed in thought. It dawned on her just as the bus pulls up. “You’re going to try and fob it off on the ducks, aren’t you?”

He looked a little sheepish. “Do you think ducks like lentils?”

“I think duck goes well with lentils.”

“River!”

Unpressured by any threat of collapsing universes and overambitious aliens, they took their time wandering through the wetlands. The Doctor wove her stories of his adventures, and River wound him up by pointing out exactly which person to render unconscious earlier on to prevent the crisis. He returned the favour by constantly interrupting her as she spoke about her adventures, with guesses as to which character in her story was actually him with a pseudonym.

They set up on a bench by a small lake. The Doctor pulled out a well-worn magazine from the depths of his pockets while River kept watch vigilantly.

River idly ran her fingers through the lentils. “Did you know that wood ducks make their nests high above the water in a tree or rock face?”

“Really?”

“The chicks jump down soon after they hatch.”

He looked up from his magazine, horrified.

“They just jump, out of a tree, on blind instinct? That’s insane.”

“How is it insane? “

“Well, how do they know they’re going to hit the water, that it’s not all going to go horribly wrong?” The Doctor pointed at a tree by the lake’s edge, frantically drawing a path of doom with his index finger from its branches to the partially submerged rocks below.

River looked unconcerned. “I don’t know why you sound so shocked. Diving headfirst into situations you know absolutely nothing about; sound familiar?”

“There’s a bit of a difference between a newborn duckling and this,” he said, tapping the side of his head.

“A duckling doesn’t have seven grey hairs?”

The Doctor reached over the lentil sack and stole a handful of nuts. A dangerous stare was directed his way.

“You’ll pay for that.”

Excitement flared in his eyes. “Do your worst.”

“I intend to.”

“I look forward to it.”

A loud impatient quack by their feet caused them to look down. A small flock of strikingly feathered ducks had gathered by their bench, watching them curiously. The Doctor, pocketing his magazine and stolen hickory nuts, scooped up a handful of lentils and sprinkled it on the ground. One duck picked up a few with his beak, but instead of swallowing allowed them to drop back to the floor.

River laughed, and the Doctor glared at her.

“Won’t be as funny when you’re eating lentil soup for the twenty second morning in a row.”

She tilted her head and shrugged one shoulder. “We’ll see.”

River offered the ducks her hickory nuts, which were received with great eagerness. The Doctor’s sulking air soon vanished when River granted him access to the parcel of nuts. It was soon demolished, and satisfied ducks retreated back to the water.

The Doctor scuffed the decidedly snow free ground. “So much for snow. Best we’ve seen so far was that brown icicle on the buses’ exhaust pipe.”

“Maybe we should visit Meroxifus again,” River suggested. “Guaranteed to be some there.” She began typing coordinates into her vortex manipulator.

The Doctor scratched his cheek.

“Erm, probably best if we take the TARDIS.” River looked over questioningly, and he patted the lentil sack. “Wouldn't want to spill these all over the time vortex.”

“Oh, I'm sure even vortisaurs need their five a day,” she grinned.

“I had a pet vortisaur once,” the Doctor said pointedly.

“And how did that go?”

He avoided eye contact and mumbled something unintelligible.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that,” River said teasingly. He pretended not to hear her.

“Come on then, show me snow before I die of old age!”

“Would you like a lecture in techniques for achieving time travel accuracy? Because that’s what nagging’s going to get you.”

A loud crack resounded in the air, startling the ducks into looking over at the shore. But there was no sign of the couple on the bench, save for a scattering of lentils on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This went so far domestic that I can't tell if this still sounds like them. Let me know if I need to burn this chapter and bury it in some remote woodland. Out of character stuff is not welcome in this fic.
> 
> References:  
> In one of the Eighth Doctor novels, it is implied that the bats seen in the TV movie were pets of the TARDIS. Arthur the horse is probably well known to you from The Girl in the Fireplace, but my favourite timey wimey spacey wacey pet has to be Ramsay the vortisaur, from Storm Warning. It didn't end well, but the coolness of a time vortex dinosaur is pretty undeniable.


	4. Chapter 4

River could almost feel the waves of trepidation rolling off of the guard escorting her back to her cell.

“Do you lot draw straws to decide who gets my shift?”

The guard nervously ignored her as he unlocked her cell. She stepped in, and after the door was closed she held out her cuffed wrists through a gap in the bars. His hands trembled slightly as he removed the handcuffs, and River’s eyes narrowed mischievously.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come in for a coffee?” she purred.

Panicked, the guard nearly tripped over his feet in his haste to get out of combat distance, her laughter following him down the corridor.

The smile on her face faded quickly as she turned around. Something felt off. Her eyes scanned the cell - someone had been inside while she was out. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the guards to search her belongings (in vain) for the Stormcage-unapproved items. But what was unusual was that instead of returning to find everything carelessly strewn across the floor, things seemed…tidier.

A little object on her windowsill, one that hadn’t been there that morning, caught her eye. River approached it cautiously, only relaxing when upon closer inspection she recognized it as a twinkie, decorated with a single crookedly placed candle. She stifled a laugh as she noticed the pastry was covered in a hummus icing.

River gently picked out the candle and took a bite. Eyes widening in surprised delight, she quickly and hungrily devoured the entire thing and daintily licked all traces of it from her fingers.

Walking over to her wardrobe, she leaned on the side and spoke aloud. “You know, there’s no portal to Narnia in there. I have checked.”

She opened the door to reveal the Doctor sat cross-legged on the wardrobe floor in a rather comfortable looking nest of her coats. He grinned up at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back at her childlike husband.

“Hello, sweetie.”

“Hello dear.” He reached underneath her sheepskin vest and pulled out a hat, and her smile instantly dropped. The Doctor waggled it at her happily.

“You’ve got to wear it, River. It’s tradition!”

She picked up the vest and hung it back on the rail, ignoring the proffered hat.

“No I don’t. You already know what day it is, so that horrendous decoration has no use.”

“Horrendous?!” He hugged the hat as if to protect its feelings. “You can’t call him horrendous, he was your idea!”

“Well from my point of view, it was _your_ idea.”

“It’s a hat, shaped like a birthday cake. They don’t get _any_ cooler than this, River. It’s got birthday candles and everything!” He pressed a button, and a tinny rendition of the birthday song weakly filled the air. River shut the wardrobe door on him.

The Doctor’s muffled voice sounded out from inside. “Have I ever told you about the first time I saw you wearing this hat?”

“I’m sure it’s one of those better lived than told,” she suggested hopefully, but the Doctor burst out of the wardrobe, eagerly intent on telling the story regardless of her reluctance to hear it.

“I arrived here one night to find an absolute vision –”

“Pretty sure any version of me would be looking pretty murderous with that on my head.”

“– absolute vision, a crown of celebration adorning her hair –”

“Making the story flowery doesn’t change the fact that it’s the tackiest hat in all of existence.”

“– and I said to her, ‘ _Who are you and what have you done with my wife_?’ And she said –”

“ _'It’s me or the hat'_ ?”

“River will you please stop interrupting? It’s a brilliant story, which you should pay close attention to.”

“The universe isn’t going to end if I refuse to introduce you to a hat.”

“It might.”

She raised an eyebrow stubbornly. “Want to bet?”

“ _Anyways_ , long brilliant story short, you told me that whenever one of us has a birthday, we have to wear the hat to let the other one know, and I thought it was the most genius idea of the century. Still do. And as it’s your birthday today, Doctor Song, the hat goes on your head!”

“Jack’s birthday is today too, you know. Why don’t you go and make him wear it?”

He jammed the hat on his own head, sulking.

“I’ve half a mind not to show you your birthday present now.”

River chuckled. “I think I already had my present. Thank you; you know what the food here’s like.” She reached over to the windowsill for the candle and tossed it back to him. “Unusual pairing, but surprisingly it worked rather well. One of your inventions I presume?”

“No, you were the one who -,” the Doctor stopped, and scratched his cheek in mild confusion. “Yes. Maybe. Depends on the timeline.” He leaped away suddenly, previous enthusiasm returning. “But that isn’t your present. Doesn’t hold a candle to it, if you’ll pardon the expression!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s practically,” he bounded back towards her to finish his sentence with a bop on her nose, “perfect.”

“Awfully high expectations you’re setting up here.”

He began to pace the room, gesturing wildly.

“Centuries in the making. Clues carefully gathered across all space and time. Our time. Thing is, when you have superb brainpower function like me, you remember even the smallest details, regardless of -” River grabbed him by a fistful of shirt as he passed close by her and silenced him with a kiss. She gently lifted the hat off his head and to his utter delight, placed it atop her own.

“There’s no need for the speeches, my love. You know I’ll enjoy whatever it is you’ve planned. And however far it ends up from being what was originally planned.”

He smiled down at her and clicked his fingers. The cloaked TARDIS door swung open.

“So where are we going?” River asked, eyes alight with anticipation. Echoes of conversations ran through his mind one last time.

_And besides, winter’s my favourite season._

_Oh, I only ever go to the last one in the run. That last chance to see vibe makes you appreciate it all the more, I think!_

_Didn’t have you pegged as_ _a reggae girl. Stevie Wonder, really?_

“London, February 1814.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> River Thames, 1814. The last of the Great Frost Fairs. Why did the Doctor choose this particular event for River’s birthday present? Knowing him, it was most likely due to very romantic reasons, and this fic set out to explore how the Doctor crafted the perfect present for River Song. Thank you for reading, and special thanks to all you wondrous people who left kudos and comments. You were the reason why I kept on writing.
> 
> References:  
> Less canon stuff this time, the only canon one being River’s ice skating trip in A Good Man Goes To War.  
> Hummus icing twinkie, that was something mentioned in my ‘of pastries and peril’ fic. Because of the looping nature of this relationship, quite a few things are only introduced to the Doctor because River mentions it, but from her chronological timeline she only knows of them because it is the Doctor that brings it to her. I’ve thrown in a couple more because it’s a great concept, hence the twinkie and the cake hat.  
> The (bigger on the inside) wardrobe was from a deleted scene from The Impossible Astronaut, where we got that brilliant two second clip of naked River.  
> Kingston and Barrowman share a birthday, and I think it'd be rather perfect if Song and Harkness did too.  
> 


End file.
